


The Universe TV

by WinterCandyMints



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, UniTV, Victorian, starfrost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5837593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterCandyMints/pseuds/WinterCandyMints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Tony discovered an old, retro television set that shows other dimensions, the residents at Stark Tower use it to find new ways to push a certain astrophysicist and ex-villain together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

Loki told him to research every possible known fact about Jane Foster. He told him he wanted to use her against Thor. That's what his mouth said. His mind spoke more.

Clint's fingers clacked across the keyboard as he pulled up Jane's files. **Astrophysicist. Keenly interested in space.** _Loki is from space_. He tilted his head slightly, wondering briefly where that thought sprung from. Ignoring it, as it wasn't relevant, he continued leafing through his search. **Ridiculed. Highly mocked for theories. Rejected from science groups.** _Loki is rejected by peers._ He blinked. Continued on. **Thor's consort.** _Loki is Thor's brother. Loki wants to spite Thor._

Clint closed out all of the files on Jane Foster, stood from the data base and promptly sought an available vehicle.

/

* * *

/

"You want me to what?" Loki asked again, which was surprising since he never asked people to repeat themselves, seeing it was tiresome. This time he needed to. He had to have heard wrong. Clint Barton, under _his_ mind control, told him he needed to kidnap Jane Foster. _Thor's_ mortal.

"Jane Foster must come under your possession."

Milky blue eyes peered emotionlessly into his. He had the Mind Gem _. The Mind Gem_. Clint was connected to his mind, which was disconcerting, considering that his utmost desire, as those under his control were supposed to know, was to kidnap Jane Foster. Jane Foster. _Thor's_ mortal. Grant it, the idea was tempting, and he had been considering it, but it all chalked up to availability of time. He had no time to seek her out. Plans had to be put in action now. He couldn't cut a few minutes, hours, to capture a single mortal among billions, hidden in an undisclosed location with the Avengers and Thor coming after him. He opened his mouth to explain, but Clint beat him to it.

"I located her in Norway. I know her exact coordinates." Clint's fingers flexed against his retracted bow.

Loki perked up. If he knew where she was, then it was a matter of security in the facility she was being held at. Now all he had to do was…

"Do not waste energy thinking of an escape route," Clint interrupted his thoughts, blank gaze holding him steadily. "I already brought her back. She's in that room." He minutely turned to the side, eyes flickering towards an unmarked door. His gaze found Loki's again. His master was off-kilter, unsure. "I will show you." He waited a few beats, until Loki finally began walking to the door, and he followed close behind. He stepped forward and swung it open, revealing a disheveled woman with her hands tied behind her back. Her head shot up, revealing her crazed, brown eyes and the unmistakable fire of anger blistering across her features.

Loki stood, staring at her for a moment, seemingly unsure of how to go about this.

Clint noted that this was their first encounter. He smiled.

/

* * *

/

The flowers, Loki surmised, were Midgard's roses. Red. The color of _Thor's_ cape. He immediately wanted nothing more than to burn them. He didn't, only because Clint Barton, whom was supposed to know his deepest wants and desires, was holding them out to him. That didn't stop the question that popped out of his mouth. "Why do you have flowers?"

Barton kept his arm out straight, presenting them, as he replied, "They're for Jane from you."

 _Oh_. Loki closed his eyes in a long blink. _Jane Foster_. He should have known. Ever since Barton brought her back – _for him_ – he had done nothing, but insist Loki treat her with utmost care. It was sickening. The first day he came into contact with Jane Foster, he immediately tried to use the scepter on her. Barton stopped him. The man insisted in a very low whisper, one only he could hear, that Loki did not want to use the Mind Gem on her. What he really wanted was for her to come to him willingly. He admitted that was tempting. Too tempting. Now she remained untouchable. At least, the way Barton expected him to behave around her. On the same day Jane Foster arrived, a mere minutes after they left her in her new 'room', Barton told him not to yell or threaten her. This was extremely vexing, when the woman was nothing, but infuriating his very existence. All she would do was fight him on everything, no matter how small it was. She even argued him about the color of his cape – it was emerald, not _evergreen_.

"Give them to her yourself – I'm busy."

Barton didn't budge. "That'd be impersonal. They must come from you. More contact will make her more open to talk."

A cynical smile twisted his lips. "We do talk. All the time. Very loudly."

"I didn't mean arguing."

Barton's stand was firm and he wasn't getting out of the way anytime soon, no matter that Loki was persistently thinking him out of existence. Apparently, that's not what he really wanted. Apparently, he really wanted to give Jane flowers. Loki decided he hated the Mind Gem. Snatching the bouquet violently from Barton, Loki pivoted towards Jane's unofficial 'room,' barely hearing Barton's short call, "She really loves stars. Talk to her about them." There were no bedrooms in the underground labs, but Barton managed to somehow pull together a decent makeshift with a bed Loki didn't bother asking how he obtained. Midstride, he halted. What was he doing? Stopping in front of her door, he began assessing what was happening. He was going to Jane Foster's door to give her – _Thor's_ mortal – flowers because deep down his mind secretly wanted this? He wanted to give her roses. That was unsettling when he didn't know what they meant on Midgard, which could be a number of things he didn't want her to think he meant by them. Small petals flitted on the ground near his feet as his grip threatened to crush the flowers entirely. That wasn't right. He wanted to gain her favor to spite Thor. His grip loosened minutely as a more genuine smile spread on his lips. That made more sense. Giving her presents in person would gain her trust – nothing to do with whether or not he wanted to give her flowers. Giving a woman flowers was for a whole other reason. He did not. Want to give her flowers. He didn't. That would be weird.

Sighing, he put on his friendliest smile, reminding himself this was all being done to gain her trust, and knocked on the door – as Barton also insisted. _"Women like privacy. Don't invade her space."_ He fought back a sneer at the memory. Why was his mind insisting on being this respectable to a mortal?

/

* * *

/

Barton, the only barricade between Jane and Loki, with petals crushed into the strands of his hair stood in the doorway. He had no idea how it came to this. All he knew was that Loki was in no mood to entertain short, angry women whom didn't enjoy being kidnapped and Jane was in no mood to tolerate aliens trying to create a better world. He was walking by the door in hopes of hearing a pleasant conversation emit from it for once since Loki would be giving her the roses by then, only to hear a shriek and a yell, which propelled him to rush inside and become mediator of the situation. He had no recollection of how the petals got in his hair.

/

* * *

/

Erik was more than pleased to hear Barton retrieved Jane and brought her to the laboratories. Now he could work and know she was close by, protected and well cared for by their Master, Loki. Though he had these reassurances, something rubbed him the wrong way about the whole situation. Loki would see her during his free time, whenever it might be, no matter how many times she threw him out and shouted at him. In many ways he found this strange. Firstly, it was strange that Jane wouldn't be more receptive of a genius leading the way to a better world. Secondly, Loki never went to her on his own accord. His eyes flickered up to the man wielding a bow across from him. Barton.

Seeing as they were alone, out of ear shot of everyone else, he took the opportunity to confront the man called Hawkeye. "I've noticed you've taken an interest in Jane's well fare."

The man stood still, eye studying the string on his bow. Without looking up, he replied, "Loki and she share a common ground both should explore."

"I appreciate you looking after her interests, but she and Loki could become acquainted without him giving her flowers. One would assume you were trying to push them into becoming more than acquaintances."

"Loki needs no one. However, it occurred to me that he and Jane are a nice thought."

Those words took a moment to sink in. When they registered, Erik dropped the equipment he was tinkering with and stepped closer to the archer. "Are you implying what I think you are?" His voice was low, beginning to sound like a threat.

Barton's eyes never moved from his bow. The only movement was a slight tilt in his chin towards the flustered scientist. "I don't imply anything. I state a simple truth, one you must know as well."

Erik remained quiet for the rest of Barton's company.

/

* * *

/

Clint remained on the bench well after Natasha left. Time was the only cure for his jumbled mind. His mind felt like his own. The thoughts belonged to him. They felt like his thoughts. The memories, too, they were his. Including the ones where he distinctly remembered trying to push Loki and Jane together. Everything he did was under Loki's direction, but something about this particular incident didn't seem like Loki's. The decision to retrieve Jane felt strangely like his. It couldn't have been. Nothing he did under the Mind Gem was his action.

An image of Loki and Jane talking popped into his head. He instantly placed the image. A few hours after he retrieved Jane from Norway. Loki – on Clint's insistence – went to Jane and asked after her well-being. The conversation that followed was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Brief. Cold. Wouldn't it have been different if circumstances didn't have them meet like this? Clint tilted his head, peering down at his hands in his lap. A flash skirted across his vision and his arrow he could see sticking out of the back of a faceless man. Clint shook his head, banishing the memory. What was he thinking? What did any of this matter? Loki was wrecking up New York. He had to get out there and put a stop to this mess.

/

* * *

/

"Look at this. Look around you. You think this madness will end with your rule?"

"It's too late. It's too late to stop it."

"No. We can. Together."

"No, Thor."

"Loki, listen to me. We have fought worse and prevailed. We can fight this and prevail as well. Join us, Brother. Join me."

Loki was many things, but he wasn't an idiot. As he stood atop Tony Stark's tower, gazing upon New York, he took in all its destruction, how all of the creatures whom were supposed to be under his command ran rampant with no direction. This wasn't how he envisioned glory. This wasn't how he envisioned the events unfolding. Everything was falling apart. He had two options. Both were unfavorable and held failure in some way. He chanced a glance at Thor. His blue eyes were pleading. _For Jane_. Thor was furious when he found him and instantly demanded the Tesseract and Jane. Now he asked for his help in stopping this mess. What choice did he have? This could play out in multiple ways. He didn't want to have to rely on Thor's _brotherly_ love to keep him from being trapped in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands, or worse. He didn't want to have to think about the worse at the moment. His safest bet was staying on Midgard, far, far away from a particular rock in the outer reaches of space.

"Thor," he spoke at last. He hesitated.

/

* * *

/

"That's how it is then?" Natasha asked after Thor finished explaining the situation to the team.

"Yes, Loki is being held in a new containment for the time being," Thor reiterated.

After the wormhole opened up and the chaos that followed, events took an unexpected turn, especially when a gold and green caped man stepped in and began to help fight back the invasion. No one knew how to handle this sudden change in the playing field. Clint especially didn't accept this as well as he could have – an arrow that successfully struck Loki in the ribs during the course of madness may or may not have been from Clint's quiver. The window in Stark Tower was in need of repairing where somebody – not to name names – threw the owner through it. Needless to say, the team as a whole wasn't exactly warming up to him. Frankly, the feeling seemed mutual.

Thor wondered what game his brother was playing, and had to keep himself from getting lost in the hope that maybe his brother did have a change of heart. Unlikely. More like a trick as S.H.I.E.L.D. kept insisting, searching deeper for ulterior plots behind Loki's change. The man wouldn't speak a word to them, no matter how many people they sent to 'interrogate' him. Thor could get a word or two, but ultimately he wasn't much for talking at the moment. This set him ill at ease. Whatever thoughts were rolling through his mind, at this point, Thor wasn't too sure if they'd be good or bad. He hoped they'd continue turning in this 'good' direction he has taken.

"What are they going to do with him?" Bruce asked, squinting at Thor through his glasses. "We saw him. He's not stable."

Thor, though badly wanting to defend his brother, found that this statement wasn't entirely untrue. This was not his brother from childhood. This was someone else entirely, someone he wasn't familiar with, who pushed him away more so than ever before. Sighing, he folded his arms and, not looking up, said, "I know not what they plan for him." Eyes drifting over the tiles beneath his feet, he wondered how Loki was holding up in his cell. The last they spoke, Loki was sitting on his provided bed, cross legged, staring absently at the wall, barely noticing Thor's arrival. When he tried starting a conversation, Loki responded, but only in single syllables and sometimes nothing at all. He knew that was not the time to ask after Jane and his plans for her. His heart still ached terribly, knowing his brother sought after the person he cared about, the one Midgardian woman who meant so much to him, to use her to manipulate him. Not only her, but Erik, too, even Clint. Thor's head was a whirlwind of confusion. How could this be the same boy, the same man he grew up with, who he played games with and shared memories?

Clint's head was also a whirlwind of confusion. Loki was no longer influencing him. He knew that. Any thought or desire Loki had wasn't in his head anymore. He wasn't playing puppet to a mad puppeteer. Once he was freed from the Mind Gem, his thoughts reverted into his normal ones, the ones before the scepter. He felt like himself. Had his bow; had his arrows; had a target on the back of a gold-and-green-clad man. He was himself. Even after Loki turned sides, much to everyone's eternal shock, he didn't point his bow in any other direction specifically. If an arrow slipped and hit a horned man, it didn't faze him. He was himself. Now that the dust settled and the threat of the world catastrophically ending ended, he began reassembling his thoughts more precisely. Wanting to figure out world's most populated cities. Not his thought. Wanting to punch Nat. That was a tough one. Sometimes she cheated in Monopoly. She had to – how was she getting all of those fifties? Loki and Jane would be nice together. Confusion began swirling. Part of him screamed, no. Loki was a villain, and Jane was Thor's girlfriend. On the contrary, another part of him, a somewhat louder part, seemed to be running laps in frenzy, connecting reason after reason why the two would be good together. Easy enough was for Clint to shove the latter thoughts aside and listen to the voice of reason in the former. A third part, a very quiet, quiet part that he barely noticed seemed rooted and ready to stay, content with whispering, _"He changed sides… there's a chance."_ Clint stood, listening as his teammates continued on, discussing their newest 'addition,' a blank stare on his face, his arms resting at his sides and his bow strung over his back as he pondered how long until he could get the chance to punch Loki across the face for hijacking his mind.

"Isn't Bruce a doctor of sorts?" Tony asked, looking over at the man mentioned. "Think you can find your way into that bag of cats of his and figure what's got him so wired?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes, confused. "Bag of cats…? What are you talk – oh," he rolled his eyes. "You heard that?"

"Thought it was a good analogy."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," Bruce began. "And I've never dealt with the issues of a god."

"We're not gods," Thor interjected, stepping towards Bruce, eyeing him with interest. "How does this involve my brother?"

Bruce turned to Thor. "They're called psychologists. They help people work out their problems. They're doctors who sort of help repair people's mental state."

Thor knitted his brow. Then his eyebrows shot up in recognition. "Healers. You have healers who help with…" He trailed off, puzzlement clear on his face. "With what exactly?"

"Social anxiety. Phobias. Anything's that's out of the norm." Bruce shrugged. "You can look at it that way." He shifted from one foot to the other as he said, "I doubt Loki would be willing to open up any time soon. He's not exactly the friendliest person."

Thor nodded. Loki wouldn't want to open up to anyone, especially after his plans fell apart. He stopped that thought. Not Loki's plans. _Whosever_ plans they truly were. Something about the invasion didn't reflect Loki's usual strategy. The chitauri were chaotic; they had no direction. Thor knew Loki carefully planned everything, but when the creatures were released, they followed no one. Thor wondered what really happened to his brother in the year that he lost him. "Loki isn't the easiest person to get along with," he conceded finally, looking up. "Even before, he usually kept to himself."

"I can imagine not many people like being tossed through a window," Tony muttered, half-jokingly, but his face remained serious.

Steve shrugged. "From how you speak to others, I can imagine you provoked him." He grinned, trying to convey this as a joke. He, like the rest of the team, was wary about Loki 'joining' them. Nothing about it settled well with him. If this was how things were going to be though, he thought he'd at least try to accept Loki's 'change.' That wasn't to say, he wasn't ready in case things did turn south. Only a short few hours ago he was taking people's eyeballs and commanding a crowd to 'kneel.' That wasn't including whatever he had intended for the woman he kidnapped.

/

* * *

/

None of Loki's plans have ever fallen apart as badly as this. He was supposed to be on the top of Stark Towers by now, ruling over his glorious kingdom, watching as his enemies graveled at his feet. He wasn't supposed to be in a newly created glass prison with a crudely thrown together iron frame and paper thin mattress the agents had the audacity to call a 'bed.' He wasn't supposed to switch sides and help his – _not_ – brother defeat the army he was supposed to command. The titan cheated him. Nothing could go according to plan with an army as sporadic as the Chitauri. Gazing over the city, he had felt powerful. He felt as if he could reach out and grab victory – it was within reach. If he closed his eyes and focused, he could feel the wind in his hair and see all the chaos, all of the chaos that should have been under _his_ control. His eyes snapped open. The solid, transparent glass greeted him coldly. No matter whose side he joined, they were determined to keep him confined. He allowed this, if only to allow them to have a false sense of security. Let them believe they can contain him behind mere glass. Let them feel 'safe.' For now he would wait. Wait and sort out his plan.

Once atop Stark Towers, feeling unstoppable, Loki had been so sure everything would go accordingly. That confidence was literally knocked out of him after Thor swung his hammer at him and pointed out how chaotic his 'supposed army' truly was. What a blow that was. Not only was a major flaw in his plans shown to him, but it was shown by none other than his idiotic once brother. Today was starting to add up into one of his worst days. It was certainly close. Nothing could possibly have been worse. Well, except for… but, he wasn't even going to think about _that_ day.

Loki sat motionless on his bed, cross legged as he has been since they 'escorted' him there. After the fighting, Thor and his playmates were so shocked by this change in his alliance that they turned weapon on him at once, unsure of what to do. Loki held his ground. Of course, Thor had to play the hero and step in to intervene, explaining the change of events. None were too receptive to say the least. That archer - Hawkeye – definitely slipped an arrow or two his way even after establishing the sudden change. He didn't blame him. In fact, he admired the archer's wary attitude towards him. He wasn't exactly wrong to feel uneasy. Loki wasn't adamant in keeping to anyone's alliance. Loki was his own alliance. Staying on good terms with his once brother and his playmates just happened to play out in his favor and implied so-called 'alliances.' Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of red, instantly aware of his visitor. This visitor frequented once an hour since his confinement.

"Loki, can I come in?" Thor stood idly by the door, staring in pleadingly.

 _Why bother asking_ , Loki wanted to spit at him as soon as the door slid open without his consent. _You clearly never need permission._ He decided to remain stoic. He wanted Thor to believe he changed sides, but that did not mean he wanted him to believe they were on better terms. Loki felt the mattress sink in where Thor plopped down, yet he did not move to indicate any acknowledgement of him and continued to blankly stare at the glass ahead of him.

"Loki, we need to discuss what has happened," Thor began. He trailed off awkwardly as he did when beginning one-sided conversations with his stubborn brother. No matter what he said, Loki wasn't compliant to speak in full sentences. The distance between them grew relentlessly in his brother's stone silence. Regardless, Thor refused to not see this as a good sign. A year ago – a very long year ago – Loki had tried to kill him and then had been lost. Now he has returned, admittedly on unfavorable terms at first, but ultimately helped in the end to put a stop to an invasion. Albeit, an invasion he started. Thor furrowed his brow. His brother made it hard for him to know what to think of his actions.

Loki let Thor drone on about whatever nonsense now and began filtering through his own thoughts. Staying on Midgard was less than desirable, and staying on Midgard with Thor and his mortal love _and_ the assembly of heroes who were targeting him not so long ago was even lesser desirable. However, an even more undesirable option loomed over his head somewhere in the deeper reaches of space. Loki blinked away an unsightly image of a place he would rather forget and stole a quick side glance at the man beside him. Thor was still drabbling on about who-knows-what and by the looks of it, he was in the middle of another tear-jerking, heartfelt childhood memory. Speaking of heartfelt. _Jane._ Loki stole another glance suddenly very aware of whom he was seated by. Thor should be furious at him for having taken Jane. Though, to be fair, Barton was the one who technically stole her – he didn't even _know_ the archer did it until he told him. _That_ was a surprise. Seeing her in person wasn't as spectacular as he suspected it to be. The woman who supposedly 'tamed' his once-brother wasn't at all impressive. She was short, even for Midgardian women and had lank, brown hair. Loki couldn't see the appeal Thor found in her, causing him to wonder just what she did that caused such a change in him. He had expected, to say the least, his once-brother to have been reasonably more demanding for the Midgardian. Instead, he had taken to sitting beside him and rambling on about nonsense. Perhaps he needn't bother himself with asking questions revolving around the woman. Barton, he knew where she was, too. Then what was Thor doing here, bothering him? Loki didn't have the answer. He didn't care. He remained silent until his visitor grew wary and left.

/

* * *

/

The room was so small. Jane couldn't believe it was made to be lived in. As she sat on the bed that was pushed into the corner, she did what had become routine by now, her daily check for any possible escape routes. The door, as always, remained locked. The reinforced steel made busting it down impossible – although it wasn't as if she could bust down a regular door with her stature. Nothing else was in the room aside from her temporary bed. That didn't stop her from checking every corner and inch she could get her hands on. Finished sweeping the room, she came up with the same results she did every time: nothing. The room was solid. Jane couldn't let this rest. There had to be a flaw somewhere, anywhere. It wasn't humanly possible for there not to be a flaw. She froze. She wasn't dealing with a human. Loki was Thor's brother; the brother who she recalled tried to blast a town in New Mexico to bits the last time Thor was on Earth. Thor. He was here. To stop Loki. But, he was here. She didn't care under what pretenses, he was here and he would put an end to Loki's plan. From what she could gather from pieces of conversations she heard through the door, he was bent on taking over Earth and would rip a wormhole in the sky to let in an army. None of that could end well. And she didn't want to sit here, doing nothing, when she could get out there and – and not be doing nothing in here! Jane slumped onto her bed, slouching against the wall. She had no idea what she would do if she could do anything. Even if she weren't in here, she'd be in Norway, working away under false pretenses for S.H.I.E.L.D. All she could do was wait.

A crash outside the room drew her attention. Something was wrong. She started to hear muffled shouting. The door slammed open. Expecting to see Loki or Clint, Jane wasn't prepared to see anyone else standing in the doorway, especially not S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Their eyes weren't milky blue.

/

* * *

/

Nothing among the rubbish caught Tony's eye. Technically speaking, he wasn't supposed to be there. Once the location of laboratories where Loki set up shop was disclosed by Clint, S.H.I.E.L.D. sent agents to infiltrate it and free his captives. After all the damage from the alien freaks, the laboratories were untouched. Underground had the advantage. With agents busy trying to regroup all the hostages, Tony found it more than easy to slip in and take a look around. He hoped he'd find some sort of neat device or gadget, anything really, to play with and, of course, make a thousand times better. There wasn't much to take from. All the abandoned tools and projects from the hijacked scientists were all petty amateur at best, easily could be replicated at home. As he was about to leave, a yellow glint caught his eye. Upon seeing the small, metal box, he couldn't help, but grin, already drawn to it like a moth to flame. A 1970's turn dial television, complete with bent antennas. Tiny, old, so very out of place amongst all the high functioning machinery around it. Because of this, Tony had to have it. He had to know what this out dated heap of junk was doing in a secret, underground laboratory. What were they doing with it? His grin widened. He was going to find out. Without another glance around, Tony slipped out of the labs with his new prize.

/

* * *

/

"Tony, do not be difficult."

"Who said anything about being difficult? If anything, I'd say I'm being pretty reasonable."

Thor eyed the man warily. Tony was not at all pleasant when he wasn't willing to cooperate, but this matter was important and he needed the man to relent. "Tony, he is trying to adjust to the team. He's not going to react well when you create rooms for everyone, except him."

Tony, not looking particularly interested in the conversation, shrugged, and said, "He's got a room. He's bunking with you." Pivoting back to a large hologram with all sorts of blue prints, he started going over his first step in rebuilding Stark Towers, bigger and better. He added, "Besides, he busted up my window and left a me-sized hole in it."

Thor mentally sighed. He was never going to let that go. "The window is going to be the least of your problems when he is shoved into living quarters with _me_."

Tony paused. "Touché. Fine, he gets his own room." He pointed at Thor. "But, you're in charge of him."

Not really, Thor mused, but he didn't voice this out loud.

/

* * *

/

Tony sat at his work bench, uncharacteristically quiet when Pepper found him. Blankly, he stared at an old 70's television set with the screen black. Trying not to startle him, she waited by the door and called his name until he looked up. When his eyes caught her, she nearly jumped back. They weren't looking at her – he was somewhere else.

"Tony?" she asked, stepping over to him. "Tony?" As she approached, his eyes narrowed and then widened as recognition set in.

"Pepper?" His voice was quiet. At first he leaned closer to see her, but then he fell back into his chair, once again eyeing the television set.

"Hey," she placed her hands on his shoulders, beginning to wonder if he hadn't slept again. "You and that TV having problems?" She leaned down, pressing her cheek against Tony's, pretending to glare at the box. "Want me to rough it up?" He didn't even smile at her joke. This was serious. She leaned back, looking at him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Lifting his head, Tony blinked at Pepper. Taking a sharp breath, he began, "Pepper, hold on to your shoes, I'm about to show you something really cool." Instantaneously a smile spread across his face as he directed his attention to the television set.

She grimaced. Tony wasn't acting right. Something was obviously bothering him – he was so solemn a few moments ago. Then again, nothing was predictable with Tony. Brushing it aside, she decided to humor him and see what he was so excited to show her.

Spinning the turn dial, Tony kept throwing glances over his shoulder at Pepper, grinning foolishly as the screen flickered twice and then flashed on. Colors faded into the screen as a scene began to develop. First, all the lines were blurred, obscuring the scene, but then the image became clearer. Pepper noticed as Tony inched closer to the screen. Her eyes went back to the image. The longer it developed, the more familiar it seemed. She jolted back.

"To-Tony," she stuttered, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself back down and stared, unable to take her eyes from the screen as she asked in a low whisper, "What is this?"

Tony grinned. "Just watch."

The screen centered around two people, a woman and a man. Both were dressed in Victorian attire, the man in a blue suit with a matching top hat and the woman in a purple dress with a button-up bodice and a lacey umbrella clutched in one hand. Nothing about this scene was out of place, except the pair was familiar.

"Tony," Pepper gasped, still reeling from what she couldn't peel her eyes from. "Tony, that's us. Tony, those two people are us." She whipped her head at him and for the first time, felt something close to a panic attack. "Tony, why are they _us_?"

He watched as the Victorian Pepper slapped the Victorian Tony for what he assumed was a failed attempt at flirting out of a situation before turning to his Pepper with a small grin.

Pepper couldn't believe her eyes. Those two people were her and Tony, but they couldn't be. She never did this. She never dressed up like that, and Tony – what was going on? "If… if this is some kind of sick joke, it's not funny. Okay? This is weird, and it's-"

"Pepper," Tony interrupted, holding up his hand. "You need to sit." He got up and quickly retrieved a chair for her, making sure she was sitting before he continued. "Okay, how familiar are you with the theory of multiple dimensions?" Her eyes widened. "I'll take your silence as a yes."

"Tony, I am in no mood for pranks," Pepper sighed, exhausted.

"This isn't a prank. I found this in the laboratories Jane was in."

Pepper's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. She whispered in disbelief, "You stole this?"

Tony cringed. "Ooooh, no. I like to think of it as an extended loan that I never intend on paying back."

"Tony," Pepper warned.

"Pepper, no one is ever going to miss a hunk of junk television."

"A hunk of junk television that shows different dimensions," she shot him a glare. "Yeah, I'd totally not notice misplacing one of those."

"So, you agree."

"Tony."

"Pepper, come on," he waved his hands at the screen. "You have to admit, this is kind of one of the coolest things ever. Haven't you ever wanted to see all the different possibilities? Haven't you ever asked, 'what if?'"

"Yes, and I learned I really don't want to know 'what if.'"

Tony whipped out a tiny rectangular device with lots of buttons. "It even comes with a remote control."

Pepper glared. She sighed, slumping back in her chair. Sneaking a glimpse at the strange, but familiar people in Victorian clothing on the screen, she asked, "What do you plan on doing with this?"

Tony shrugged noncommittedly. "Nothing. Fun. It's just for fun."

Pepper's brow knitted together. "Seeing every possibility ever is 'fun?'" She glanced at him. "Sounds overwhelming."

"Name one thing that can possibly go wrong with messing around with this?"

Pepper remained quiet. She couldn't think of anything off the top of her head. Still, something about the TV didn't sit well with her. Tony was sitting across from her, visibly excited over that junky TV. That junky TV that apparently showcased other dimensions. That was all it did, though. "The TV doesn't transport you into these dimensions, does it?"

Tony gazed at the screen. Looking back at Pepper, he shrugged and replied, "Not that I know of."

Pepper watched as her Victorian double danced with her Victorian boyfriend. She mentally winced. Wow, that sounded weird even in her head. Sighing, she finally relented, "Okay. So long as all it does is this, it'll probably be okay."

"Great, I've already worked out where I'm building a theater in the tower."

Pepper stared at him. "You worked out what?"

"A theater. To enjoy the TV on a big screen with the rest of the team."

"Tony!"

"It's too late – I've already got the ball rolling."

/

* * *

/

As soon as he saw her walking up to him from the corner of his eye, Loki made an effort to ignore her. Ever since he left her in her makeshift 'room' in the underground laboratories, he hadn't had contact with her and he'd like to keep it that way. SHIELD recently decided to let him on a leash of sorts to test this new-fledged alliance he created. The leash wasn't much of a leash at all. In short, the Avengers were his leash. Taking turns holding attention over him, they rotated in teams of two. Natasha and Clint happened to be on their shift. Humiliating to say the least, he played their games and let them babysit him. Gain their trust. He would wait until they let their guard down. Until then, all he could do was wait and act civil. Civil did not dictate being friendly. Jane wasn't part of the group he meant to obtain trust from. Ergo, she held no priority with him and didn't require his attention. He wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone anyway, especially not someone who no doubt would lecture him as she's always done since he first met-

Loki didn't have time to finish that thought. It was a flicker in the corner of his vision, but it was enough. Sharply whipping his head to the side, he let the hand graze the surface of his cheek. He stayed with his chin tilted to the side. Then, slowly, he turned his face to his attacker. A short, brunette Midgardian woman. An angry Midgardian woman if her eyebrows were any indication. The sight was so amusing, Loki almost laughed, but, deciding against it, instead only grinned at her.

"That was for kidnapping me," she exclaimed, adding to his amusement.

He was so amused by her first punch he nearly hadn't turned his head in time when she threw the second one. Her hits had no effect on him, as was to be expected of a Midgardian. He turned his head back to look at her, noting she was around his shoulders. A very short Midgardian.

"And that was for New York," she spat.

That made him grin harder and he made no attempt to hide it. Her sudden bravo, he suspected, must be from the knowledge that he was to be on his best behavior or else S.H.I.E.L.D. would throw him back in that pitiful glass container. Not wanting to leave her feeling like she got the upper hand, he leaned towards her, locking eyes with her. Her chest heaved with sharp breaths, making him wonder if she used all her nerves to punch him, not once, but twice. He'd admit – to himself – she was courageous. Or really stupid. He held back a smirk as he leaned more towards the second option. In a low voice, he told her plainly, "I like you."

A mortal wouldn't have noticed, but Loki was clearly not a mortal and he noticed. Her eyes widened marginally. Her shoulders dipped a degree to the left. Insignificant movements, barely aware, but he saw them and he knew he had her. Three simple words. No retaliation, no scathing remark. Nothing of what she expected. Only a few words he spoke only to throw her. They not only threw her, they undid her. She didn't say another word. Only glared at him. He gladly returned her glare with a grin, furthering her discomfort. After a moment passed, she shifted her feet, and walked away, not looking back. His eyes followed her until she disappeared into a hallway. Loki decided he would have fun playing pretend as an Avenger.

/

* * *

/

The two punches Jane delivered were witnessed in awestruck silence. Clint stared as the two stood across the room, facing one another. Something about this was vaguely familiar. Only a few days earlier he had watched as the two stood similarly in her 'room' and willed each other to drop dead from the sheer force of their glares. Clint remembered rushing through the door, finding them locked in this deathly gaze, struck by the intensity, Loki with his hand empty of the roses as it remained clutched and Jane now gripping the roses angrily, demanding to know his game. They stood their ground. Jane made the first move. She had thrown the roses, intending to be rid of them and Loki's 'good' intentions. Clint moved, pushing himself between them, suddenly broken from the trance he found himself in when he had seen them and he stood, willing them to back off. Jane spat some unkind words, but Loki remained silent. His glare was worse than words.

Now he found the two in another stand-off, this time one having gone so far as provoking the other with physical infliction. Clint tensed as he waited for the next move. Natasha, resting beside him on Stark's couch, was already inching off her seat. Both halted in confusion. Loki grinned at Jane. The words that fell from his mouth, though Clint wasn't aware of it, finalized his position on something that had been growing inside him since he first went to retrieve Jane for Loki under his influence.

"I like you."

Clint didn't remember deciding to say what he did to Nat. He just said it. The words were out before he even realized what he was implying. "Nat, I ship it."

The woman beside him, having been so tense from what she was watching in front of her, startled, looking over at her companion slowly. "You what?"

Clint shrugged. He wasn't even too sure what he was saying. All he knew was that the tiny voice in his head, whispering, _"He changed sides… there's a chance"_ wasn't wrong. Loki, though a mega jerk, was on their side now. The right side. Where Jane was. "I said, I ship it."

Natasha raised a brow. "You don't mean?" She darted her eyes at the two in front of them, who were now standing in what was becoming awkward silence.

Clint nodded.

"What about Thor?"

"What about whom?"

The two looked up as Bruce walked through a doorway close to them, eyeing them curiously. He approached them, sparing a glance at Loki and Jane before he asked, "What are you two talking about?"

Clint opened his mouth to come up with an excuse, anything to avoid openly admitting what he admitted to Natasha to Bruce, being that he wasn't entirely comfortable with the revelation yet, when Natasha spoke up.

"We ship Loki and Jane," she said simply, staring up at Bruce, challenging him to say something about it.

Clint's mouth dropped open in surprise. He wasn't expecting this. He was hoping in the least she wouldn't judge him for thinking something so obscene. This was beyond his highest hopes. He knew Nat was his best friend for a reason. There were many reasons, but this one was a pleasant surprise.

Bruce only stared at them. Then he looked at the two in question. Jane was leaving. Loki watched her until she was gone. Bruce turned back to Clint and Natasha. "Alright, what is the story here? Is he messing with you?" His eyes flickered to Loki and he waggled his eyebrows.

Natasha shook her head and patted the empty spot next to her. "Look, sit down." After Bruce sat, she preceded to explain the earlier exchange between Loki and Jane.

Bruce chuckled afterwards, shaking his head. "What did you call it?"

"Call what?" Clint asked.

"The, um, that thing with them. I cargo them."

Natasha and Clint exchanged a look. "Shipping, Bruce. We ship them."

"Why would that make you ship them?"

"There's more-" Clint began, but Natasha cut him off.

"Loki in a relationship with an abusive brunette who would keep him in line."

Bruce made a face and then started grinning again. "Alright, that's it. I 'ship' it." He brought his eyebrows together. "We probably shouldn't say anything to the other team members. You know. Thor."

The two nodded in agreement. For the while, they decided to keep their thoughts to themselves.

/

* * *

/

Jane bit her lip as she tinkered with her newly acquired piece of equipment. Tony had finally, after many nickname jests, given her an arch reactor prototype. Although he had offered to explain how all of it worked, she declined, insisting she wanted to reverse engineer it in hope of finding a way to power some of her own custom equipment. Dr. Banner was out today - or so Jarvis had told her - which meant she had the lab to herself. Having just removed the outer casing, she was enthralled in her work when Thor sauntered in.

"Hello, Jane," he greeted in that accent she loved so much, the one that caused her heart to do a little flutter.

"Hi," was all she replied. _Stupid_ , she thought. _You haven't seen him in forever; he shows up; you hang out for an hour, see him again and all you can mutter is_ hi _._ Mentally face-palming, she continued disassembling the reactor and tried to ignore the shift of awkward silence that fell over them.

Thor shuffled closer to her, almost hovering as he peered over her shoulder. "Is that the orb of light from Tony's suit?"

She nodded absently, eyes focused on the wires. "Uh-huh. I'm using it to see if I can pump up the power for some of my tech. I'm hoping that if I can get all of the theoretical gears in motion I'll be able to get better results." Jane explained, poking at one of the wires sticking out of the reactors, curious as how it played its role for the reactor.

Thor looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Theoretical gears? I do not understand."

"Yea, you know like in most machines…" He continued to stare at her as if she was speaking a foreign tongue. Arresting her hands over the metal, she tilted her head in his direction to face him. "In most mechs, or mechanisms, when the teeth of two or more gears line up, and one begins to move, it causes all the others to move as well. You guys don't have anything remotely similar on Asgard?" She shifted her body, now completely facing him and held up her hands helplessly as if she could pull the right words from thin air.

Thor smiled. "Most things work on magic, but I'm sure that there are gears. As a matter of fact, I think the arena has something somewhat similar for hanging cloaks. Though I don't see how they would have anything to do with your metal machines."

Jane shook her head, her ponytail lightly bumping the sides of her face. "No. No, my machines…" She trailed off, deciding to change her thought. "Well… it's just theoretical, as in, 'in theory'." She paused. "I just… I'm trying to get more power…" Glancing up, she realized the dull look on his face. "Never mind." Jane threw her head down, at the last statement, towards the reactor, throwing herself back into the work. She _really_ liked Thor, but every time she tried talking tech or science, it ended up like a miniature lecture from one of her old 101 college classes.

After a moment of strenuous, awkward silence, Thor spoke up. "I shall see you later then?"

Jane stopped studying the reactor to turn to him. "Yea. Yes, of course. If this works out, I should be at dinner later. Do you want to meet up soon after?"

A smile lit up Thor's face as he nodded. "Until then, Jane Foster." In a swift step, he was by her side and had her hand in his before she could blink. Soon he leaned down to press a kiss to her knuckles as he brought her hand to his lips. Then he was gone.

A few minutes passed and Jane hadn't stirred from that spot. Instead, she was staring at her hand as if it somehow betrayed her. Ever since Thor kissed her hand in the middle of the street in New Mexico, the gesture always left her feeling flushed in warmth. Now all she felt was a soft, cold impression where his lips touched.

Evening rolled around, and Jane made little progress in her work. She knew she could eventually take parts of the arch-reactor and make them increase the power output by ten-fold, potentially more, but the problem was she had no idea how to isolate a small piece, or how to connect it to her own devices. When she arrived at the dining room and found herself alone, Jane began to pace. Time alone in the lab had given her a lot of time to think, and not only about her work. She really, _really_ liked Thor. Yet no matter how hard she tried, he didn't comprehend most of Earth's science and technology. Just like how she didn't understand Asgard's magic, she realized. Sighing, Jane paced quicker. Thor was from space - another _realm_ , as he called it. He was a prince, banished to Earth - _Midgard_ \- so he could change, and Jane helped him. He likewise helped her by answering her questions, retrieving at least her stolen notebook from SHIELD and later putting up with the god downstairs when he sent the _Destroyer_. All of this was racing through Jane's mind as she paced.

"YO! Star Gazer! Stop wearing out my floors - just had them put in. You know with the whole alien war thing. You alright? Seem tense. You should hit up the Jacuzzi. Still a little busted up. I mean, the floor is still good, ceiling kind of hanging, but, hey, I just say it adds to the experience. You waiting for Hammer Time?" Jane rolled her eyes at the nickname, but then became more alert as he continued. "He said for me to give you a message. Something about meeting him on the 'deck'." He shrugged, making a face. "I think he meant the balcony." Grabbing a drink, he added, "Okay, yeah, see ya later. Do me a favor and keep him from breaking anything. He already broke my toaster." Muttering about whatever else, he left. Gone to do who knew what and Jane was alone to think about what she was going to tell Thor.

Jane stepped out onto the balcony of Stark Towers. She saw Thor on the other side of the half circle ring and crossed over to him, biting her lip as she walked.

"Ahh, Jane, Tony gave you my message. Is something the matter?"

 _He knows,_ she thought. _How could he know I haven't even said anything._ "Thor," she began, "Having you back, back in the same country, same state even, has been awesome."

"Indeed it has. I, too, am glad that I have been able to spend time in your realm with you."

"Yeah, but, Thor, here's the thing. I don't know how you feel but, I like you, Thor. I really do, but I can't help but feel we aren't meant for each other."

"Not meant for each other? Jane, why do you speak this?"

"Thor."

"No, Jane. I fell to your world, banished by my actions. You helped me to change and for that I am truly grateful and forever in your debt."

 _Now he's just making it hard on me,_ she thought, trying to think of the best way to deliver the news. "Thor. Some people here on Earth - err, Midgard - would consider us dating."

"As in, I am a potential suitor to you?" He asked with a quizzical look on his face. Midgardian customs were often hard for him to remember due to many of them differing from place to place.

Jane winced at the word 'suitor', still unsure if she was ever even going to marry. "In a sense, yes, you are a potential suitor. That's what I'm trying to explain." She bit the inside of her cheek. "I'm not sure if I want us to continue dating."

Thor looked at her for a moment longer, then dropped his gaze. "I see".

"We can still be friends. I don't want this to change much between us, just the whole... ahem..." Jane cleared her throat, then in a quieter tone added, "kissing part."

"Well then, Jane Foster, if this is what you wish, then I shall no longer be your, as you say, boyfriend." With that he walked away leaving Jane alone on the terrace. A strong gust of wind pushed against her back and she realized how cold the night had begun. _I just broke up with a god,_ she thought with a shudder.

/

* * *

/

No matter how Clint and Natasha looked at it, telling the rest of the team, let alone getting them on board with Loki and Jane was going to be hard. Nevertheless, the two were in agreement that now that Thor and Jane officially broke up, it would be appropriate to tell others their long hidden secret ship and they were determined to convince everyone else of their cause. With Bruce's backing, they felt pretty confident. Now all they had to do was find the opportune moment.

"Loki and Jane need to happen."

Bruce and Clint stared at Natasha. Or apparently, just blurt it out.

The three of them along with Tony and Steve were sitting down at a table, eating breakfast. Everyone else was wherever. Tony was eating pancakes while Steve sufficed with an apple. Now both were mid-bite and staring as if Natasha sprouted horns, which she might as well have with what she was suggesting.

"Repeat that back to me," Tony said, putting down his forkful of pancake. "Did you say Loki and Jane need to happen? As in dating?"

Natasha folded her arms and rested her elbows against the table. "I didn't stutter, did I?"

Steve crinkled his nose at her. "Do you realize what you're saying?"

"I'm not saying anything. I'm making a clear standpoint on an issue."

"What issue?" Tony asked, eyes creasing in confusion.

Bruce decided to intervene. "Clint, Nat and I think Loki and Jane should be a couple."

The silence that followed was palpable. Tony broke it with a surprised laugh. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "No one in their right mind would have her get with Thor's psychotic brother."

Clint countered, "Loki and Jane have a lot in common."

"What are you talking about? What does that trickster have in common with the scientist?" Steve looked at Natasha, expectantly.

Natasha answered, "Jane loves the stars. Loki can take her out there."

Steve pointed out, "He can't travel when he's locked in a cell."

"He's trying to change," Bruce argued. "He joined us and has been making improvement."

"Yeah, well, anything's improvement when he stops throwing people from windows," Tony muttered.

Bruce sighed. "Tony, when was the last time he did that?"

"I'm not his keeper. How should I know when he's chucking people from windows?"

Natasha said, "Forget your petty issues with him and listen to what we have to say."

/

* * *

/

Jane stood in front of the mirror, checking over her outfit and makeup one more time. The dress, a green strapless little number that flowed in layers cutting off at her knees, wasn't hers. It was one she had to borrow from Pepper, whom she had to ask in embarrassment for once she realized she didn't have anything considered 'elegant' in her own closet. She was still adjusting to her new room and hadn't moved all of her things yet. Grant it, there wouldn't have been any graceful dresses hiding in her closet at home, but nevertheless. She usually didn't fret over things as frivolous as appearances, but tonight was supposed to be special.

Tony, having finished re-building Stark Towers along with rooms for everyone, including her – even though she heavily insisted he didn't have to, to which he nonchalantly replied, _"Trust me, sweetheart, you will be a brilliant asset to the team."_ – left an invitation under her door this morning. Nothing fancy - surprising for Tony – just a piece of paper with printed instructions for the formal dinner party he was holding for the whole team. From the looks of how proper it was, Jane had her suspicions that the invitation was more likely written by Pepper.

Eight O'clock. The dinner was being held in one of the numerous rooms in the tower, somewhere around the top floor at eight o'clock and it was 7:49. Jane did one more once over, found everything to be in place and then started out the door, invitation in hand, determined not to get lost and get to this dinner party.

Jane checked her watch. She winced. 8:17. _Crap._ The floors got mixed up in her head and she wound up backtracking twice, trying to figure out which room it was. Now she was pretty sure this one had to be it. Not seeing anyone the way there was discomforting, but by now everyone had to be there, so maybe it wasn't that surprising. Grabbing the knob, she took a breath and swung the door open, expecting to see a table full of familiar faces. She was greeted by an empty room. There was a table however it was much too small for the amount of people supposed to be coming. It only seated two. In front of the places was a dish with what looked like steak, mashed potatoes and broccoli. An unopened wine bottle was center of the table next to a lit candle stick. Jane crinkled her nose at the scene, disheartened. She swore the door read the number on the invitation. She turned to go back out to read it. As she was about to leave, someone entered, halting her in her steps. It took everything in her power not to flinch at the sight of him. Anyone. Anyone else in the world would've been better than him. She would've preferred running into Thor and having awkward ex-boyfriend silence than this.

Loki stood in the doorway. Wearing the Asgardian clothing sans the cape and helmet he had worn a few weeks ago when he had been arranging an attack on New York, he came off every bit as threatening as he did that day. Startled, Jane froze. For the past few days, though reluctantly, Loki had started wearing 'normal' clothing, earth clothing and Jane had grown accustomed to seeing him in passing glances wear dress shirts and slacks. It was the only thing that made him seem slightly more human. Though only an illusion, she knew, it helped with adjusting to the fact he was 'on their side.' Now he stood, not even a few feet away, in the same Asgardian armor that he had worn while attempting to take over Earth. She took a deep breath. The discomfort radiating from her felt like it was filling the room. She wondered if he felt her discomfort, and suddenly she became very conscious of herself.

The two didn't speak for a beat. Jane opened her mouth. Loki spoke first.

"The invitation read that this was a dinner party for everyone."

Jane shifted on her feet uneasily. "Yeah, well. This must be the wrong room," she offered, not meeting his eye. They were alone. In a small room. No one knew where they were. She was suddenly keenly aware of when they last talked and how she punched him. Twice. She stole a glance at him, hoping he'd end this torturous tension and move so they could find the right room. He didn't. He remained where he was, not moving an inch.

"This is the right room," he stated.

Jane gawked at him. "What? No, it's not," she insisted. "How can this be the right room? There's only one table in here. It doesn't look like a dinner party. It looks like a… like a…" _Romantic dinner setting_ , but she kept that thought to herself.

Loki cocked an eyebrow, surveying the room. Then he looked at Jane. "Room 112 on the 33rd floor."

Jane shook her head. "This has to be a mistake. It has to be the wrong room." She stepped closer to him. He eyed her warily. She sighed. "Move. I want to see for myself."

If he didn't appreciate her tone, he didn't show it and side stepped, moving into the room as she hurried passed him. She could've collapsed. 112, 33rd floor. This had to be horrible joke. She leaned into the doorway, peeking into the room at the Asgardian standing idly next to the table.

"This is a mistake," she mumbled, helplessly.

Loki paid her no attention. He sauntered over to the chair facing Jane and seated himself.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I was promised a dinner. I'm going to have one."

"But, wait," she stuttered, stepping inside. "Everyone's supposed to be here. What is going on?"

Loki was already picking up his fork and knife. "Room 112, 33rd floor. This is the room. Here is the meal. You should sit. It would be a waste."

Jane didn't appreciate his lazy attitude towards the situation. Or at least, in her case, it certainly felt like a situation. She was supposed to be at a nice dinner party with everyone else, not in a little room with a psychopath on what would appear to an outsider's view like a romantic date. Oh, God, there were even rose petals spread on the table. Didn't this make him a little uncomfortable? She looked up at him. He was cutting into his steak. Apparently not.

"I'm, um, going to, uh," she fumbled over her words, trying not to immediately run and hide from this awkward tension.

"Jane," Loki set down his utensils and looked at her. "Just sit. This is the right room. What are you going to do? Go through every room in this tower?" He picked up his fork, spearing a piece of steak and then held it up. "This isn't that bad."

Jane reluctantly sat in the seat across from him. The food _did_ smell really good and she hadn't eaten since lunch. Though she intended on just eating and then getting out of there, sitting across from a homicidal maniac was hard to ignore. She grabbed the wine bottle, joking, "I'm going to need this."

Loki stopped moving his fork and his eyebrows shot up. "You drink?"

Jane shook her head. "No. But, I'm making an exception."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that a crack at being in my company?"

"You're not exactly ideal company." Jane bit her lip, but held his gaze steadily.

Loki stared at her a moment longer. Then he ignored her and went back to his meal.

Jane let out a tiny breath she didn't realize she was holding. Alone in a small room when no one knew where they were did not seem like the best time to start conversation with Loki. Jane started poking around at her plate. The steak she wasn't too fond of since she wasn't too interested in meat in general, but she liked the mashed potatoes and veggies. As she ate, she sneaked glances at the man across from her. He paid her no attention. Good. She was content to bide this evening in silence.

Loki tried to eat his meal in peace, but he couldn't ignore the heavy atmosphere. The tension was thick like a wet blanket hanging over them. When he opened the door, he hadn't expected to see a lone table and a single person, let alone Thor's mortal – _ex_ – standing as if caught in a spotlight. He did find it curious that she was wearing his color, but waved it as coincidence – she didn't know it was his color – and instead of trying his hand at conversation with her, sat down and went to get what he was promised: a meal. He didn't care that there wasn't a party; he wasn't interested in talking with anyone. However, he had relied on there being more people to fill in the silence to avoid having to sit in said silence awkwardly. Like now. Jane's tension was so loud it made him uncomfortable. He started longing to talk, if only to ease the discomfort prickling his skin. A thought struck him suddenly. Something Barton told him a while ago.

"You're interested in the stars."

Jane jumped at his voice, poking the inside of her cheek with her fork. Setting it down, she regarded him inquisitively. "Why are you asking?"

"I didn't." Loki held his fork, but didn't bring it to his mouth. "You enjoy the stars." He gave a half shrug. "What can you tell me about your stars here?"

Jane didn't know how to respond. This had to be a trick. She started to feel silly. What could knowing the stars do to aid him? Unless he had some secret plot involving the stars. She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

Loki sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Honestly, Jane, everything has to be so hostile with you. I thought some dinner conversation would suffice better than this rigid tension."

"Maybe I'm only so hostile because you give me reason to be," she countered.

"And what have I done recently to give you reason?"

"You kidnapped me."

Loki rolled his eyes. "In an attempt to manipulate Thor, yes, but during my stay in the tower, I have done nothing of suspect."

Silence fell over them again. He was right in that aspect. Jane tried to remember an incident in the tower, anything, but he had been mostly recluse, staying in his own room.

After a few moments, Loki dropped his stare and went back to his meal, resigning from trying to have a conversation with her. It mattered not to him whether or not they talked. He tried. That was all he was willing to do.

Jane watched his movements. He wreaked havoc on New York City, intended to become earth's supreme leader. Eric. He wasn't the same since he came back. A twinge of guilt bit into Jane when she realized how upset Eric would be if he knew she was seated at a little dinner table with Loki as if acquaintances, when she promised him repeatedly that she'd steer clear of him – of course, she held to that promise after punching him twice, but really that was a justified moment to be in Loki's presence. Eric was never okay with the idea of Loki becoming an Avenger, or at least trying to. He insisted she stay back in New Mexico, or anywhere else. She had wanted to, but then Tony introduced her to the laboratories she would be working in, and well, how could she say no? She glanced at the man across from her. A few reasons why saying no might have been the better option came to mind. Maybe she wasn't being fair. Was he being fair when he led an invasion? No. He was trying, though, wasn't he? He started wearing 'normal' clothing. That had to be a big step in some way. After much back and forth, Jane ultimately decided that this was only one evening, one that wouldn't repeat itself, and the silence _was_ becoming unbearable. Clearing her throat softly, she looked up at him. He lifted his head, staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She silently blew out air from her parted lips and spoke, "The stars have always fascinated me." She paused, looking down. Shaken by the fact she was speaking to Loki – _Loki_ – she was at a loss of where to go with this. She peeked at him. He had put his silverware down and now had all his attention on her, his eyes never moving from hers. What did she get herself into?

After another moment's hesitation, Loki urged her on. "When did you realize this fascination?"

Jane set down her silverware as well. Folding her hands, she placed them on the table. "Well, I guess, it started when I was really little. Um, my dad," she hesitated. Loki noticed, but didn't say anything. "My dad would take me out at night and show me the constellations." She let a small smile slip on her face.

Loki rested his elbow on the table and began leaning against it, relaxing. "Go on."

As the two started their small chat, a few floors above in a secluded room were six individuals watching on a holographic screen the video feed that a hidden camera in the dinner room broadcasted to them. The six individuals remained silent as the two began talking in a more pleasant manner.

"Oh, my god," Bruce whispered. "They're actually talking without killing each other."

"I can't believe you guys talked me into this 'ship' thing," Tony muttered, eyes never leaving the screen.

"I'm more impressed that we convinced Thor to get into this," Steve observed, glancing at the Asgardian who was grinning at the screen.

Thor looked up at him, still smiling. "I will admit, when you first proposed the idea, I wasn't too sure, but seeing them talking like this," he turned his eyes back to the two. "I almost believe the brother I used to know may come back to me."

Clint and Natasha high-fived each other over the success of the plan. After convincing Tony and Steve to board the S.S. Loki and Jane, the five of them went to recruit Thor as a group effort. In the end, it wasn't as hard to get him into it as they thought it would be. Cautious of the ship at first, Thor argued that Jane would have no interest in his brother, considering the devastation he brought to her world. Then the five brought out how Jane being in Loki's company alone might spark a change in him as it did Thor. It was hard for the Asgardian to wave that as impossible, since he found Jane to be charming in her own ways and after thinking it through, even if the two only became friends, that relationship alone would help his brother stabilize. Once he agreed to be a part of their shipping group, all of them pulled together to come up with a plan to get the two on a 'date.' Something just to break the ice between them, since the two almost simultaneously steered clear of one another. This was only the beginning. Everyone knew they had a long way to go before Loki and Jane would even be considered 'friends.'

"What's our next phase of plan?" Steve asked, as Loki chuckled at something Jane said.

"Maybe we could send them on an exclusive cruise?" Tony suggested. "Literally start 'shipping' them."

Clint grinned. "No. I think they'd start catching on too easily if we pulled something like that."

"Tony, didn't you say that, uh, that Universe TV-"

"Dimension TV," Tony corrected Bruce, but he went ignored.

"Didn't you say that TV you showed us could see every universe possible?"

"Every _dimension_ possible and yes, it can." Tony found it irritating no one would call it by the right name. Dimension TV sounded so cool, sophisticated. Universe TV sounded like something from a children's show.

"Well, what if we watched universes-"

" _Dimensions_."

"Where Loki and Jane end up together?"

The air in the room stilled. Everyone forgot the screen in front of them for a moment as they turned to stare at the quiet scientist. He raised his brow at them. "What?"

Clint was grinning. "Bruce, that is the best thing you have ever said."

Natasha nodded. "We can see how they fell in love other times and try to recreate that here."

Thor smiled. "Loki with Jane in other universes? Is there such a thing? I have to see this with my own eyes."

"Isn't that personal?" Steve was hesitant. "Wouldn't that be intruding on others' privacy?"

"Isn't it personal that we shoved these two in a room together and are watching them now?" Tony retorted.

Steve couldn't disagree there. "Maybe a few universes wouldn't hurt."

Thus the six decided later on to gather in the new theater room and start watching what they dubbed the 'Universe TV' – _to Tony's vexation_ – to find ideas on how to push Loki and Jane together.


	2. Universe One: Teacups

The sun beat down on Jane's head as she sat across from her friend, who was pouring herself another cup of tea while the two discussed the controversial matter of the Odinsons. A few weeks ago, the house next to Jane's had been empty, looking sparse and lonely with no light of life bustling in the yard or inside. The previous owner, Mr. Fitzgerald – _may he rest in peace_ – passed on during his sleep and, having no children, left the house to stand on its own, abandoned. Jane was saddened when the old man passed away. She enjoyed her talks with him, even though the two would only converse when both were outside and she happened to see him over the little, white picket fence separating their yards. Nonetheless, she felt close to him in a way, like the sense of having an older uncle or distant grandfather, and she detested seeing his hard worked garden left to rot. Soon she decided to tend to his flowers, making sure they remained as beautiful as ever. It went on like this for days into a couple of weeks – her with watering can in hand and gloves clutched in the other, making her way over to her neighbor's yard and carefully sprinkling water on the daisies and daffodils, banishing nasty weeds. The task wasn't too difficult and she enjoyed tending the lonely garden bordering late Mr. Fitzgerald's house. She would've happily continued her work, if it weren't for a week ago when her work was _rudely_ interrupted.

Plucking weeds, watering flowers, same old routine she did every day. She was in the midst of it, when she felt a chill pierce the air. It was as if suddenly the air around her was sucked of life, leaving nothing but a sharp cold. A shadow fell over the pansies. Jane looked up and was startled to see a young man was standing – _more like towering_ – over her. His eyes were regarding her with what looked like contempt, which only fueled her anger towards him for being there.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice immediately tipping her off to an English accent, prompting her to wonder just what this English snob – _he must be a snob with how finely dressed he was out here in the country_ – was doing in her – _Mr. Fitzgerald's_ – garden.

The question pricked Jane's spine irritably. "Weeding," she replied curtly, hoping her frosty tone would drive him away.

"What are you doing _here_?" he asked again, not moving an inch from his spot. "This isn't your house."

Jane hadn't lifted her head as she went back to ripping up weeds. "You aren't from here. How would you know it's not my house?"

"How do you know I'm not from here?" he shot back, seemingly to have taken root right there.

Gripping her watering can, she tipped it over a patch of lilies, gently cascading them in a shower of water. "Your accent," she replied briskly, again hoping the edge in her voice would signal him to leave.

"Where do you think I'm from?"

Jane found a particularly interesting weed and focused her attention on it profusely, not giving the man a glance. From the corner of her eye, she caught the lining of black shoes surrounded by unkempt grass. "Where else, but England? You have an English accent, don't you?" she snipped maybe too sharply, but she couldn't care less. She wanted this man to leave her alone.

There was a pause and Jane couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he was studying her. She hastened to grab her watering can again only to be intercepted by the man whom suddenly grabbed it away from her. She whipped her head up in bewilderment. "What do you think you're doing?" she seethed, gritting her teeth.

Now that she was looking at him – really looking - she saw that he had black, slicked back hair that curled outward at the base of his neck and he had menacing blue eyes that reminded her of a frozen lake – boding, unwelcoming. His dark green suit – which by itself was a dead giveaway that he wasn't from around here – was tailored to fit him snugly as were his dark slacks, and a splash of color lit around his neck in a blue tie, drawing her attention to his narrow face. Jane decided she did not like him.

He held the watering can away from her only slightly to his right so that she couldn't reach out and snatch it, and peered at her without smiling, furthering her discomfort around him. "Gardening here would be inappropriate," he told her simply.

Jane widened her eyes at him, mouth falling open in surprise. "Uh," she scoffed. "Who are you to say what's inappropriate? There's nothing wrong with keeping this garden in shape."

"Except this garden is under new ownership and the owners haven't given you expressed permission to be here."

"New owners?" she rose to her feet, staring up at him, ignoring the fact he had a foot on her. "Why haven't I heard about this?"

"They acquired ownership yesterday and were scheduled to move in today."

"Who are they?"

"The Odinsons."

Jane placed her hands on her hips and then folded her arms, feeling restless about this new information. People couldn't move in overnight. There were steps to be taken, weren't there? Why wasn't she informed of this? She glared at the man, the only one there she could force blame upon. "And who are you?" she demanded.

The man stood, motionless, regarding her with his frozen lake eyes before saying, "Loki."

That name was familiar. Jane thought it was weird, but she had heard that name before. "Loki?" she echoed, trying it out. The more she thought about it, the more she was reminded of something Erik had told her. Then it clicked. "Loki," she said again, this time seeming to catch his attention at the sound of his name. "As in Loki the Norse God of Mischief?" She raised a brow at him. His parents couldn't possibly have named him after that.

He smiled, though so faintly Jane couldn't tell if it was a smile. "Not many people are familiar with Norse mythology."

"My dad's friend is from Norway," she said as explanation, being as curt as possible. "Now tell me how you know someone's moving in."

He was about to answer, when a voice cut in. "Loki, dear." A tall, beautiful woman wearing a long, blue dress with blond hair tied back in an elegant bun approached them. Her eyes, blue, but pleasantly warm, smiled at Loki before curiously falling upon Jane. She arched a brow, smiling as she looked the little woman over. "Oh. And who are you?"

Jane felt caught in a spotlight. "I'm…" she looked between Loki and the woman. "I'm Jane Foster." She gestured to the side. "I live next door. Are you moving in?" she asked quickly, feeling knocked off her feet.

The woman grinned wider. "Yes. I am Frigga Odinson." She turned to Loki, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. "And it seems you have already met my son."

"Your son," Jane blurted out.

Frigga nodded, laying a hand on his arm, smiling kindly at her. "I hope he hasn't been any trouble."

Jane scowled into her teacup at the memory. Hasn't been any trouble. Hasn't been any trouble, her foot. She didn't know what – be it his haughty eyes or his better-than-everyone-else-grin – but everything about him made her not like him at all. For the past week, as the family moved in, Jane was careful to avoid him altogether, but did run into the other family members. Frigga, Jane didn't know why, absolutely adored her unconditionally. The woman, whenever she caught sight of Jane, would call her over and would croon over how lovely she is and ask how she could ever still be single to which Jane would smile politely and tell her she wasn't interested and would rather pursue her studies. Talking with Frigga, though admittedly pleasant, was a hazard. She held Jane's attention the longest, thus making it more likely to run into Loki. Ever since she met Frigga and Loki at the same time, she had the wary suspicion that he would fade into existence next to her at a moment's notice. She wasn't entirely convinced he was human, but with such a nice mother, maybe there was some redeemable quality in him. Then Jane remembered his leering eyes. Maybe not.

Soon after, maybe a day or two later, she ran into Loki's brother, Thor Odinson. He, like his mother, happily came over to the fence and greeted her when she was coming home from the store. Instead of staying on his side, he swooped over and grabbed all her bags and offered to carry them inside. Jane, flustered by the fact he grabbed everything and _then_ asked permission, was stricken by how starkly different he was from his brother. Loki, tall, dark, and some other third thing – _she was not going to admit he was handsome_ – when Jane thought about it, didn't look anything like his mother, whereas Thor had short, blond hair and her warm eyes. She didn't think too much on this. Soon they were in her house, which seemed highly inappropriate, but he insisted on placing the items on her table or counter or wherever she'd preferred them without noticing that it would be suspicious for a woman to allow a man into her house if that man was not family. As if she needed that. The town already had enough to talk about her with her having a profession, being that she was a woman, let alone it being a 'strange' profession like studying the stars. She decided it would only be a second and it really wasn't too suspicious since he was simply placing her groceries and then getting out. That would be fine. Then Darcy had to run into him on his way out. The mischievous smile that soon appeared on that woman's face signaled all sorts of trouble Jane knew she'd have to amend later. Like this afternoon over tea.

"So," Darcy said, smiling at Jane over her cup. "You and-"

" _No_ ," Jane said firmly, glaring at her.

"But, he was-"

"I don't care what it looked like. He was just helping me with groceries." Jane picked up a sugar cube and stirred it into her cup, continuing to glare at the brunette. "They moved in a few days ago. You think something happened in that short amount of time?"

Darcy whistled, leaning back in her chair, setting her cup on her saucer. "He is very handsome. I wouldn't be surprised."

"Darcy," Jane shot her friend a look.

"I'm only saying. He can help with my groceries any time."

"Darcy, that's inappropriate." Jane hissed, leaning forward so no one walking by could hear. Sitting in the yard on an iron-wrought table with white cloth was proving not to be at all as relaxing as she had originally thought. She really didn't need any more talk from the rest of the town, especially talk about nothing.

"I'm only talking about groceries," Darcy teased, grinning.

Jane rolled her eyes. "You don't know him."

"I don't need to know him to know he's smoking."

"Smoking?" Jane didn't recall him having a cigarette. "Darcy, what are you talking about?"

"Smoking. It means, hot. It's something I made up to see if it catches on." Waggling her eyebrows, she took a sip of her tea.

Jane gave her a blank stare. "Smoking?"

"It's catchy," Darcy argued.

"He's nice," Jane admitted. How could she say otherwise after he practically leapt her fence to take in her few bags of groceries? "I wouldn't say he's 'smoking' though."

"Only because you wouldn't know hot if it hit you in the face. Or carried in your bags," Darcy shot up a brow, giving Jane one of her how-are-you-so-smart-and-dumb looks.

Jane shook her head. "Darcy, sometimes…" She trailed off when she noticed something in the corner of her eye. A green blur. Turning her head, she caught sight of what – or _who_ – it was and instantly groaned. Loki.

"What?" Darcy followed her gaze and smiled. "Oh, and this is the sheik that likes you."

"Darcy, please," Jane whispered as she kept her eyes on the approaching man. "He's only a tot-hunter."

What was he doing here anyway? She hadn't seen him in several days, and he never came over to her yard before. He didn't seem like the direct type, so what was this about?

"Good evening, ladies," he greeted, a smile on his lips.

Jane made a disapproving noise while Darcy took charge of the conversation. "Hello, there, good-looking." Jane shot her a glare, but she ignored it. "What brings you here?"

Loki seemed more focused on Jane, his eyes drawn to her, which did not escape Darcy's notice. The woman gave Jane an amused glance, but she was oblivious to the obvious extra attention. She had her face scrunched as if she smelled something rancid. Darcy rolled her eyes. She needed to lighten up.

"I thought it'd be neighborly of me to pay you a visit," he explained, speaking to Jane.

Darcy grinned, raising her eyebrows. "Did you hear that, Jane? He's being _neighborly_." She winked.

"Please don't wink…" mumbled Jane.

"What was that?" asked Loki.

Jane swiveled her head in his direction. Not masking her displeasure at his presence, she snarled, "What do you want, _Odinson_?"

The anger in her tone seemed to make him grin more. "Can't someone be neighborly?"

Jane frowned harder, if that was possible. "No."

"Alright, I'll admit. I didn't only come over out of neighborly duty." He held his hands behind his back, Jane suspected to hide something.

"What do you want?" she asked when he didn't continue. She held back a yelp, jerking forward in her seat. He raised his eyebrow, staring bemusedly at her. Her cheeks flushed and she shot a glare at Darcy who moments ago unceremoniously kicked her under the table. The brunette only feigned innocence as she cupped her cheek in her hand and found interest in a nearby flower poking up from the ground.

"I was wondering if I could wager something."

"I don't gamble," Jane replied quickly.

"I wouldn't call it gambling."

" _What do you want_?" Jane snapped, earning another swift kick. This time she held her reaction better, coughing to cover up her yelp.

Loki looked at her, eyebrows drawn together in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. It's only a cough," she answered, waving her hand dismissively. "Now what is it?"

"What if I proved something scientifically impossible possible?"

"Oh, Jane, you love science," Darcy chimed, grinning at her. "Take the bet."

"I'm not taking anything, until I know everything." Jane narrowed her eyes at him. "What would you be proving?"

"I bet I can stack-" He picked up one of their teacups and held it up for them. "-three hundred teacups without them toppling over."

Jane instinctively covered her mouth to stop a chortle. Putting her hand down, she smirked at him. "You can't do that. It's impossible and besides, where are you going to get that many?"

"So, you accept my bet?"

"I don't know what you're betting."

"A kiss."

"A kiss," she repeated, frowning. "Well, I don't know if I can wager a kiss from Darcy. You'd have to ask her."

"He means a kiss from you," Darcy snapped. She was giving Jane another 'look'.

"What?" She looked from her friend to her neighbor. "I'm not betting a kiss."

Darcy groaned; Jane grimaced at her. She was not going to bet on something so ludicrous. Especially for a kiss. Her friend needed to stop reading romance novels.

Loki wasn't deterred. "You didn't ask what you'd get if you won."

Jane humored him. "Alright. When I win, what do I get?"

He grinned. "When you win, I will give you a telescope."

"Ooo, Jane, did you hear that? He's going to give you – _hey_!" It was Darcy's turn to yelp when Jane swiftly kicked her under the table.

This was bad. She really liked telescopes – they were essential to her research and she couldn't deny that she liked the idea of having another one.

"So, I get a telescope-" Loki nodded. "When you stack _300_ teacups?" He nodded again. Jane bit her lip. "Alright, I accept your bet."

Darcy let out a little cheer of delight. "You are so getting kissed."

Jane looked at her, exasperatedly. "You don't believe he's actually going to win, do you?" She glanced at him. "No offense." He shrugged, not offended.

"Well, 300 cups is a lot. But, you are so getting kissed." Darcy smirked, teasingly.

"I am so not."

There was no way he was going to win.

/

* * *

/

Jane stood, staring in shock.

 _How did he win?_ The sheer odds were stacked – no pun intended – in her favor. No one could stack that many teacups. It was illogical; it was ridiculous; and it was standing in front of her.

When she finally managed to get her breath back, she only had strength for one word. " _What_?"

Loki stacked three-hundred cups. He stacked an impossible number. It wasn't possible and yet there was a stack of cups much higher than her two-story house.

Darcy's whistle brought her out of her trance. "Wow," the brunette awed, grinning wildly. "That's impressive."

"That's… that's not… how did you?" she stuttered, grasping for any explanation for the three-hundred stack of cups.

Loki stood aside it, smiling like a school boy caught in a mischievous act and proud of it. Cheekily, he stated, "I believe I betted a kiss."

"What?" she exclaimed. "No."

"Now, Jane, that's no way to act when you lose a bet," Darcy scolded, grinning.

"Shut up, Darcy," she growled.

"The lady is right," Loki pointed out. "It is unbecoming to act petulantly in the face of defeat."

"But, I, wait," Jane stammered and then sighed. "Fine. Okay. You win." Crossing her arms, she frowned. "Just, just get it over with already." She ignored the excited squeal from Darcy and waited for him to walk up to her. No way was she going to come to him. Oh, no, this was it. Was he really going to kiss her? The thought made her cheeks heat up. _Stop blushing_ , she chided herself. She wasn't a school girl anymore. There was no reason to be getting this worked up over a kiss. Especially one from this jerk. Loki took a brisk, few steps closer, sealing the space between them, eliciting another squeal from Darcy. Jane swore, after this, she was going to get her back somehow.

She had been looking at her shoes the whole time, not wanting to meet his gaze or see Darcy's delighted face in the moment of her humiliation. She couldn't believe he did it. He actually _did_ it. There had to be a trick, something. Where did he get all of those cups anyway? Jane's mind continued to broil over, eyes locked on her shoes, when Loki's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Milady, I do believe one must be looking at their partner during a kiss."

She gritted her teeth to keep from biting out a cutting remark. When she looked up, she caught her breath. He was way too close. She hadn't realized he moved within barely an inch from her. When she looked up, he was looking down and their noses nearly touched. Her cheeks burned brighter. This close, she could see his blue eyes, cold and frozen. _And pretty_ , a tiny voice inside her whispered. She pushed that voice away and focused on controlling her breathing. When did it get so hard to breathe? He was starting to lean down. Oh, God, he was really going to kiss her. Her heart beat faster with anticipation and she found herself closing her eyes. She did _not_ want this. Then why were lips puckering? She didn't want this. She didn't want. She wanted this a little. No, she didn't. Her eyes flew open when she felt a soft pressure on her cheek.

Then Loki pulled away, giving them ample space and smiled at her. "Thank you for the bet, Miss Foster."

Jane stood there, baffled. Realizing her mouth was left agape, she quickly shut it. "Wait," she said. "How did you do it? Tell me."

"One doesn't realize his secrets," he told her and then he returned to his home with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Once the door closed behind him, Jane let out a frustrated breath. "How?"

"How what?"

"How did he do it?"

"He puckered his lips and planted one on your-"

"No," Jane hissed. "Not that stupid kiss." It was stupid. It wasn't even real. On the cheek, what kind of bet was that? "The cups," she clarified, gesturing to the tower of said items. "How did he manage to do this?"

"World's greatest cup stacker?"

"Be reasonable, Darcy."

Walking over to the tower, the blush finally fading from her cheeks, Jane began examining it more closely. Nothing was out of place; everything seemed normal. Then she saw it. Her stomach dropped and her face burned with rage. On the edge of the cups was thinly layered pieces of dried glue.

"He diddled me," she seethed.

Darcy made a face at her. "I was here the whole time. He only kissed your cheek."

Jane groaned. "Look it up, Darcy."

She smiled. "Somebody's upset she didn't get a real kiss."

"Shut up, Darcy," she growled. "As if I would want a kiss from that snake."

Jane would get back at him. For the bet and for that stupid kiss. She would just need to think of something. Looking over at the Odinsons' yard, something caught her eye. That was it. She smiled. She'd get back at him yet.

/

* * *

/

"Maybe…" Thor started.

"No," Tony cut him off. "There's no way this would work."

"Don't be too hasty," Bruce said. "Not exactly like this, but there were still useable moments. Betting, for example."

"He would have to make the bet," Steve pointed out. "If one of us makes the bet, it would be suspicious."

"Can we just appreciate that she so wanted him to kiss her and that sneaky bastard kissed her on the cheek because he knew she was going to be frustrated by it?" Clint grinned, thoroughly enjoying the universe, regardless of not getting ideas from it.

Natasha, sitting next to him on the sofa, nodded in agreement. "That was smooth. If Loki were interested in Jane first, then this might work."

"Yeah, no." Tony shook his head. "None of this will work. They didn't even fall in love in this one. He pecked her on the cheek and now she's madder at him. We don't need to watch the TV for that. Jane is always mad at him."

"Not to mention they're both mortals in this universe." Steve shrugged. "Doesn't really fit with our Loki and Jane."

"Let's keep watching," Bruce suggested. "It's not like our universe, but it doesn't mean we can't pick up something from it."

Deciding to continue watching it, they sat in silence as Loki continued making Jane mad and Darcy kept trying to persuade the two of them to get together. All of this occurred as their Loki and Jane concluded their dinner and went to their separate rooms. Neither of them knew what to make of what happened that night. Little did they know that this was only the beginning of a series of events that would lead to something no one expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tot-hunting: prowling for women
> 
> Sheik: attractive man


	3. Interlude I

 

Jane didn't know how to go about analyzing the events from yesterday evening. Oh, god, did she say 'analyzing?' Darcy was right; her mind was always in 'work mode.' Thinking about the spunky brunette caused a pang of homesickness to strike her gut. She'd have to see about asking Darcy to visit or vice versa. Later. Now she had other things on her mind. Like a certain exclusive dinner party.

Around her the sky blead into her room, blanketing her in soft comfort. She had to hand it to Tony – he knew how to build rooms. Hers had floor-to-ceiling paneled glass so she could see the sky at all times. There was even an incredibly powerful telescope on its own little balcony, where she could walk onto whenever she wanted. For the past hour, once she had woken up, she considered losing herself in the sky and pushing aside her thoughts, forgetting everything else. Slumped at her desk – the one that was filled with astronomy books that Tony supplied – Jane knew today was not for skies. Unfortunately.

Today she had to come back down, and frankly, she didn't know how to deal with the event from last night. Loki – _Loki_ – had dinner with her. _Together_. What could she make of that? There had obviously been a mistake. How did they end up being the only ones to attend a supposed 'dinner party' for everyone? And why were there only two seats? Nothing was adding up. She cupped her chin in her hand as she leaned her elbow against the desk, eyes skimming unseeingly over titles of countless books. The evening wasn't bad. It wasn't as awful as she suspected spending time with Loki would be, at least. He turned out to be an exceptional conversationalist, but that might be expected from someone dubbed, 'silver-tongue.' Jane sighed. She didn't know what she thought of Loki. She didn't really care to think too much about it. They shared one meal during one evening and it wasn't likely to happen again, nor was it likely they'd see each other any more often, so maybe she was overthinking things. She would admit that she did feel foolish after fussing over her appearance to have Loki be the only one to see. None of that mattered though. They talked. It wasn't bad; it wasn't good. It was a talk. About stars and trivial things. That was it. Today was a new day and she wouldn't have to think any more about Asgardians or not Asgardians. Now she'd get to go to her new laboratory and begin working on research for today. Nothing else weird was going to happen. The dinner was a fluke, a weird and uncomfortable fluke.

/

* * *

/

Loki didn't know what to think of last night. It was unexpected to say the least. When he found the dinner invitation, it had specifically stated that all members of the Tower would attend. It also mentioned to dress in one's best clothes. Having only a fraction of his usual wardrobe, he had chosen the one Asgardian outfit he had left. The one he wore on the day of the invasion. The Midgardian garb he was wearing for show was growing tiresome and he swore it itched uncomfortably. Last night was his chance to don on something familiar, comfortable and most importantly, _not_ made by petty mortals. He didn't care what suspicion it would arouse, in fact, he welcomed any pointed glares and accusing looks. Anything would have been better than dressing up, pretending to belong, pretending to have 'conformed' to their ways. Nothing he has done has been anything, but an act. Wearing Midgardian clothing was Act I, Scene I in a drama of masquerade. Last night would be a pause, a breather, a moment to feel like himself and not what he's painted himself for the others. That plan all, but dissipated when he opened the door and found the lone occupant staring back at him, mirroring his inward confusion.

There was a moment, a fraction of a moment, where he panicked and considered the possibility of this 'dinner party' of being an ambush. The thought was quickly dismissed after careful reasoning. If it were an ambush, they wouldn't have put Jane, the weakest mortal of the group who had no fighting skills or super powers, in the way of danger should there have been any physical infliction. She looked as confused as he was, so there was no premeditated planning on her part. Then what was the point of all of this? As soon as he walked in, he scanned the area, realizing the soft buzzing sound was coming from within the corner of the wall and was a camera to spy on them, but for what purpose, he had no idea. He entertained the idea of the whole 'dinner party' of being a ruse set up by the others as a test of sorts to see how he'd behave when left alone in the company of a mortal. He didn't care. Let them have their tests. They didn't matter to him one bit. This was only a temporary fix until he could figure out where to go from here.

Jane Foster was an entirely different matter. She clearly had no idea about the situation and he doubt she knew they were being watched. Her reaction made that apparent. He expected her to leave since she avoided his presence as often as she could, taking longer walks around the building if he happened to be in her normal route, eating somewhere else if he was seated at the table. It was almost a game and he had fun inconveniencing her. Even if it was petty, it was mischief of some form. He expected her to leave him in peace to enjoy his meal. Then she surprised him and sat down. What happened after that was another surprise. Their conversation. This was the first time they spoke to each other as if acquaintances, talking about trivial matters as if it were normal. For the longest time, since he met her, he found Jane Foster to be dull, average, boring and couldn't fathom his once-brother's interest in her. He still couldn't. There was nothing spectacular about Jane Foster. That's not to say he didn't enjoy their conversation in the simplest sense. It provided something to ease the discomfort in the atmosphere. And she wasn't as inarticulate as he had assumed she'd be. In the very least, Jane Foster was tolerable. That was it.

Loki stood in the middle of his room, his _Midgardian_ room created by none other than that idiot Tony Stark, as he pondered over his findings. He sighed. This was pointless. It was one evening that happened under strange circumstances that would never happen again and so his pondering over the mortal were useless. They would go about their lives as they always had. Separate. That was fine with him.

/

* * *

/

In the Universe TV room, the group watching the TV was a person smaller, but no one noticed as their attention was squared solely on the screen where Loki and Jane were in the middle of an argument while Darcy stood to the side, telling them to 'kiss already'. Everyone sat in silence. No one blinked as they worked to gather a spark of inspiration. Nobody thought of anything.

"Guys, I'm calling it," Bruce said. "We can't use this universe."

"I agree with Banner." Steve nodded to the scientist. "This era is nothing like ours. These two are too different."

Clint held up his hand. "Now hold on."

"No," Tony interrupted. "We've been watching this one for hours and we've seen nothing but arguing."

"Hold on, guys," Natasha said, eyes on the screen. Everyone turned to her, expectantly. A smile lit her lips. "I have an idea."

/

* * *

/

Loki didn't know what he was doing. Staying at Stark Towers was supposed to be temporary while he came up with another plan. Yet he was still here, still wearing Midgardian clothes, still wandering around the tower listlessly. He made no progress. He had nothing to show.

As he milled the thought of what to do around his head, he turned the corner and found himself face to face with someone he hadn't anticipated any further contact with. Jane Foster. He stilled. Before, when they ran into each other, they mutually ignored one another, but that was before their dinner. Now he wondered what she would do.

"Whoa, hey," Jane said suddenly, her eyes widening upon seeing him. "Um, how are you?" Her smile was forced and her overall actions were awkward, but if she was talking to him, then he might as well put up some sort of effort.

"Fine. You?" he asked as was customary greeting among mortals. Not that he really cared.

"Good," she replied. Then silence fell over them.

He was not letting this go on again. "I must be going now," he said with what he thought was a polite smile before continuing on his way, letting Jane do whatever it was she was up to. His feet eventually took him to the kitchen. There he had no idea what to do even more. Why he was there in the first place, he didn't know. He didn't know why he did anything anymore. Someone entered after him, but before he could identity who, the person spoke and instantly, Loki wanted to be anywhere, but the kitchen.

"Brother, hello," Thor said, surprise in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Loki replied, crisply, not in the mood for another 'conversation' with his once-brother.

"Me, too," Thor blurted out. Loki had his back to him, but Thor wondered if his brother wasn't holding back a laugh. Since he had changed sides, things have been changing ever slightly. Loki would talk, but it was like when he was in the glass container and would only speak in short phrases or nothing at all. He barely talked with the others as well, but they were able to get a little more out of him. He couldn't understand why his brother insisted on speaking the least to him. That's why he felt a strong wave of hope when for the first time in a long time, Loki had a conversation. A real one. And Jane Foster was the cause of it. He hoped this would continue, even as his heart protested the lost love, he knew his brother needed this more. "What are you doing in the kitchen?"

"Trying to find nutrients amongst Midgard's garbage they call 'food'."

That was the most Loki had said to him at once in an age. "Now, Brother, you shouldn't speak ill until you try it."

"I'd like not to become ill."

At least the conversation was holding up. That was more than he could say for most of their 'talks'. "Loki, I-"

A sharp _ding_ from behind Thor startled him and the first thing he thought was that someone planted a bomb in Stark Towers. Before Loki could finish his protest against it, Thor grabbed his hammer, charged it and, pivoting around, readied to slam it down.

/

* * *

/

"So?" Tony leaned forward, staring at the redhead.

"So?" she repeated, inspecting her nails.

"So, what is the plan?" Tony demanded. "Out with it. You ran off and did some Russian thing, didn't you? What was it?"

Natasha picked at a chip in her nail polish, wondering on which mission that happened and made a mental note to ask Clint later. "A woman doesn't reveal her secrets."

Tony huffed, sitting back in his chair, leaning into his hand with his elbow on the armrest. "How is your plan going to work if no one knows what you did?" She wouldn't tell them, even after she showed up three minutes ago in the living room where the others congregated, waiting for her return. Clint couldn't reach her, either and that was when Bruce and Steve gave up because everyone knew if Clint couldn't do it, no one could. Tony was too stubborn to admit defeat.

"I'll know it worked." She smirked. "And trust me. You will, too."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

She didn't reply. She held out her hand, palm out, folding her fingers one-by-one until her hand was a fist. As soon as she closed her pinkie, the wall next to Stark exploded open, and two red and green masses tumbled through the giant hole. Just on time.

/

* * *

/

"Tony," Thor said, sternly. " _No_."

"Thor," Tony copied. " _Yes_."

"Tony, he is not a child," Thor argued.

"He acts like one. He's going to be treated like one," Tony sneered. "Besides, the brat blew up my kitchen."

"That was my fault. Do not blame him."

"You're not the one on probation. He's the one with a criminal record."

"That is no reason to throw him back in the container."

Loki stood idly by, listening, but not really listening as his once-brother once again stepped in to _save the day_. As if he couldn't handle this himself. It was Thor's fault anyway. He called lightning down and that was when all went to pieces. He couldn't remember who started the fight. All he knew that at one point, they were both hitting each other, crashed through the wall and then two more people joined the fray. He believed Tony had called his suit and Steve donned his shield. Natasha and Bruce were standing to the side, watching, if he recalled correctly. Vaguely, he remembered the two cheering for individuals to win. Eventually, everyone was pulled from one another and once the dust settled, accusatory fingers were pointed and he, of course, was the one to blame. Everything was his fault.

"You know what?" Tony said suddenly, a disturbing look crossing his face, one Loki did not like. "You don't like the cage?" He smirked, now looking at Loki. "Alright, fine. No cage. I have another idea."

"Tony," Thor warned. "No punishments."

"I have a feeling he'll like this one."

Loki was not a masochist. Whatever they were planning, he was sure he was not going to like it.

While Natasha stood to the side, watching the boys in the midst of their argument, a certain A.I. popped up on her phone. The text she received read:

JARVIS: _You were right, Ma'am. The Asgardians reacted as you said they would when I made the toaster go off. How will this bring the astrophysicist and Asgardian together?_

She smirked as she texted back, _Trust me, JARVIS. This is step one._

/

* * *

/

All the while, Jane happily bumbled along in her lab, having not heard the explosion, and was unaware of all the commotion.

/

* * *

/

Loki could count on his hand the numbers of times he was truly uncomfortable in the full meaning of the word. He now knew none of those times were anywhere near as distressing as this. The only part of the situation that made it somehow worse was that he couldn't fathom why they made her sit next to him. Worse yet, he couldn't fathom why she was there to begin with. "Jane," he greeted, stiffly, glancing at her sideways, not moving his body towards her in any way, so as not to open further discussion.

"Loki," she replied, her voice confused. She didn't understand why, but Natasha dragged her into the theater room where Tony kept that weird television set that he hooked into a giant theater screen. She couldn't figure out everyone's interest in it. Thinking about other 'Jane's in their own lives, doing their own thing based on choices _she_ could have made creeped her out. In agreement with Pepper, she didn't want to know. Now Natasha basically forced her in here and 'nonchalantly' sat next to Clint, leaving the only seat in the room next to the person she didn't want to see. Didn't want to talk to anyway. And he was on a 'loveseat'. Why was someone out to make her life difficult? That dinner… party – she wasn't going to call it a 'date' – was off-putting to say the least. She still didn't know what to think of Loki.

"Alright," Loki spoke up, crooking his head towards Tony. "What is this 'punishment' you want to induce on me via television. If you hope to make my brain mush by subjecting me to the horrors of Midgard's idea of entertainment, you can stop now because I've already surveyed what your people have to offer and although mind-numbing, I lived."

The billionaire, leaning back comfortably in a recliner, smirked in what one could only describe as 'evilly'. "You should have been informed. This isn't a normal television set, Reindeer Games."

"I resent that nickname, seeing how I don't wear that helmet anymore," _At the moment_ , he added to himself.

"Listen, _Reindeer Games_ ," Tony said the nickname with emphasis this time. "Sit back, relax and don't get too uncomfortable." He grinned here.

Loki didn't like the look of that grin, but didn't think too much of it. If their best solution to 'punishing' him instead of throwing him in the glass container was making him watch some insane show, then who was he to complain? He could block it out and focus on working through his plans for when he left Stark Towers. All those thoughts immediately flew out the window when the TV blinked on and he saw a replica of a green armored man, wielding a scepter. The day, the moment, the pose, the expression were all exactly as he remembered that day. The only difference was Iron Man was engaged in combat with him, alone, that was until another figure joined him with makeshift blasters on her hands and feet.

"Tony," the new person called.

The man in the suit on the screen turned and, lifting his mask for a moment, grinned on seeing her. "Jane," he chuckled. "You made it to the party."

Loki, sitting on the couch, taking all this in, very aware of the woman beside him, decided he preferred being locked in the glass container.


End file.
